Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(133)

I’m used to his game.

When he pulls back, his eyes almost black with fury, he grabs my crotch, squeezing hard, and pain slices through my core. “This is mine. And I’ll have you. I’ll rip you apart, tear you to pieces until your resistance is futile.” He shoves me away with such force I lose my balance and tumble to the ground.

He may well deliver on that threat when he finds out I’m not untouched, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

“What the fuck, man?” Drew barges into my bedroom, shoving Trent in the chest, his handsome face red with rage. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you?!” he hollers, extending his arm and helping me to my feet. My twin tucks me beside him in a protective stance, scowling at the blood coating my lips. “Quit this shit, or we’re done, Trent. I fucking mean it this time.”

Trent slants an amused grin in Drew’s direction. “You say that like you’ve any choice in the matter. We’re in this for life. You’re stuck with me, whether you and your bitch of a sister like it.”

“You can’t speak to Abby like that. And I won’t let you treat her like this.”

Trent squares up to Drew. “She’s mine to do with as I please. Butt the fuck out. I don’t tell you what to do with Jane.”

“Because I treat Jane with respect,” Drew retorts, dragging a hand through his dark brown hair.

Trent snorts. “You’re so fucking pussy-whipped. Why you want to tie yourself to the same pussy for life is beyond me.” Trent slaps him on the back, shaking his head. “You should pound as many chicks as you can before you settle down.”

“Ugh.” I step in front of the warring boys. “You’re gross. They love each other, that’s why.” I know it’s a foreign concept to him, but I hate how superior he acts around my brother. Like he deserves some life medal for being a player. “Go, Trent.” I push him toward the door. “Go to that skank and fuck her up the ass. See if I care.”

“You’re going to Rochelle’s?” Drew queries, raising a brow.

“Your sister won’t spread her legs, as usual, and I’m all fired up.” He winks at me. “Lucky for Rochelle.”

“We had an agreement,” Drew protests, and it’s the first I’ve heard of it. “And you’re already breaking it.”

“You decided I should cut Rochelle loose. I didn’t voice an opinion either way.” He saunters toward the door, and a layer of tension lifts from my shoulders. “Convince your precious sister to put out, and I’ll consider it,” he tosses over his shoulder, before leaving, the noise of his shoes echoing in the wide hallway as he walks away.

Drew slowly turns around, inspecting me quickly. “Did he hurt you anyplace else?” he asks, pulling a handkerchief out of his dress pants and gently dabbing at my lip.

The guys were at some function in the gentleman’s club downtown with their respective fathers. Hence why Drew is dressed like he’s attending a funeral. And why Trent is wasted. I hate the way women are treated within the elite social circles, but there are times I’m glad we’re excluded from things.

I harrumph. “You have to ask?” I push the short sleeves of my dress up to my shoulders, skimming a finger over the bruising already blossoming on my upper arms.

Trent never leaves a mark in a visible place.

Appearances and all.

That’s something else he has in common with my father. That and the obvious shared psycho gene. Thankfully, Drew seems to have escaped that trait, although he’s as arrogant and power-obsessed as Daddy Dearest, so he definitely inherited some of his DNA.

I like to believe there’s more of Mom in me.

Drew rubs a tense-looking spot between his brows. “He’s on edge because of this upcoming trip.”

The guys are leaving next weekend for Parkhurst, some bullshit elite training camp they attend a few times a year. Although the guys will go on to college after graduating high school next May, they will each assume some official responsibility within their family business, fulfilling more public obligations, and this month-long camp trip is part of their preparation.

“Don’t make excuses for him,” I say, turning around and holding my hair up.

Drew unzips my dress, casting his warm brown eyes to the floor as I slip it off and pull on my silk nightdress. “I’m not. You don’t understand the pressure that’s on our shoulders.”

I whirl around on him, my eyes blazing. “Don’t talk to me about pressure! At least you get to have a career and a life! What choices do I have?” I flap my hands about.

“You’ve got college to look forward to, and Christian Montgomery has agreed you can wait until you get your degree before producing an heir.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” I shout even though I’m venting at the wrong person.

“You’ll want for nothing, Abby.” He tenderly cups my face. “And you and Trent will make beautiful babies together.”

I push him away, disgusted at the turn in our conversation. “Go away, Drew. I can’t hear this tonight.”

His features pull into a tight grimace. “Stop being such a whiny bitch,” he snaps. “You know how important the alliance with the Montgomerys is. We’ve both got parts to play.”